


Imp a La Mode

by ClarySage (ClaryTehSage)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-07-11 22:17:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15981644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClaryTehSage/pseuds/ClarySage
Summary: Warnings & Summary: Wincest! And a slightly off center point of view…





	Imp a La Mode

He’s doing it again, tapping his fingers on the wheel, whistling tunelessly beneath his breath, as if that makes it better somehow. For the past few weeks he’s been ignoring me more and more. At first it was just tiny things, little inconsequential things, things I didn’t even notice in my rush to please him. But now…

So I eat his Metallica tape. Ride the Lightning, his favorite. I do it with gusto, relish, and so blatantly he can’t miss it. It’s wonderful to watch his face twist in consternation, he even pulls over and stares, first with shock, and then with growing horror as I shred it.

But it isn’t enough, it only distracts him for a few minutes, and then he merely finds a different tape, shoving it in, all uncaring, and pulling back on to the road. I’m tempted to try and kill him sometimes, really I am. 

I let it go, let us go a few miles further down the road, and then, just to show him I mean business, I start playing with the volume. Up, down, up, down. Moment by moment his face grows darker, and eventually he pulls over again, angrily slamming on the breaks and punching with an unbending finger at the eject button. 

“What the fuck is your problem!?” he shouts, shaking the tape in my face. 

It’s at this point I really wish I could tell him, tell him how angry he’s been making me. That’s he’s been using me, abusing me, and to top it all off, he forgot to give me a bath last week! I got a scratch a few days ago and he didn’t even notice till yesterday!

Soon we’re back on the road again, his fingers clutching at me with a fierce grip. I want to shake it off, his touch disgusting me after what he’s been putting me through, but I don’t. 

I can’t help that I still love him, even though he’s back, ruining our time together. The other night, when he was sleeping soundly, I purposely put the seat back, making sure to knock it hard, so he fell backwards, waking up with a flail of his arms and a shout. I nearly ran off the road into a cow pasture I was laughing so hard.

I miss it when it was just him and me, the road stretching out before us, all black with its neat little stripes of yellow and white. Sometimes it was wet, or dusty, or dirty, but always, it was just him, me, and the road. 

Then he came back. I couldn’t believe it, all that time and he just goes and picks him up, like it’s nothing, like he never left us in the first place. I don’t know how he can forgive him, but I can’t.

It was bad enough just a few weeks ago, when he first starting ignoring me in favor of him, but lately…it’s gotten so bad I can barely control my rage. It pisses me off so much I find myself swerving to the right just a bit, and he barely catches it as we slide off the edge of the road. They’ve switched places and now he’s driving. Hell, he can barely find the brakes.

“Fuck!” he yells, pulling off, and punching Dean in the arm. “What the fuck is up with the Impala lately?”

“Dude, I don’t know. Maybe it’s possessed?”

“Yeah right, it’s just a car. It’s not like it’s fucking Christine,” he grumbles.

“Maybe it just needs a tune up, it has been a while.”

I feel like bucking them both off the seats and out the door, but hold myself steady. It’s not Dean’s fault, it’s all his. We were fine before he came along, I got regular baths, and meals, and even loving caresses as we skimmed down the road to new destinations. And now?

Yesterday they pulled over and I couldn’t get my door open fast enough. It’s always a good feeling, letting him out. 

But then they got back in. Into the back. 

Maybe he needs an emergency tracheotomy, I thought, and my luxurious back seat is the flattest place to operate. I prepared to accidentally blow a tire just when Dean makes the incision. But he sure was talking a lot for someone who was about to die a horrible slow death what with all his “I can’t waits” and “Oh gods!” 

Plus, the first aid kit was in my trunk…

At first I didn’t know what they were going to do, then it started to dawn. After all, it wasn’t as if it was the first time Dean had had sex in me. Fingers fumbling, clothing flying all over the place in their rush; his underwear hanging from my rearview. I had to sit there and watch while they touched each other, fluids slipping down his thighs, dripping onto my beautiful shiny seat. 

It seemed as if hours passed, the trees overhead shading us where we were parked slightly off the road. The moans, groans, and gasps of lust-filled pleasure all I could hear in the relative silence of the sleepy afternoon. I watched as a snail made its way ever so slowly from one side of the road to the other. By the time they climbed back into the front, and Dean fired me up, I was so angry I sputtered and refused to start for a good ten minutes.

How could Dean do this to me?! He even left some his fluids dribbling into one of my buckles, like it didn’t even matter. He never would’ve done that before, he used to be so careful to wipe me afterwards, caress my roof. Then we’d go out for some gas, or a nice windshield cleaning, and it’d just be the two of us again. And now this…in my backseat! Like I’m not even there!

One of these days, I’m going to kill him, I really am. And can you blame me? He dumped me! For that gangly piece of an erection he calls a brother! He dumped me! Me! The love of his life!

I am so breaking down later!

 

-the end-


End file.
